


The Spins

by DeadlyBingo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M, olicity - Freeform, olicity angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyBingo/pseuds/DeadlyBingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Felicity Smoak has ever needed a drink in her life, it was after accidentally learning about her fiancé's son over breakfast one morning.  However, not even one (or 5) drinks can keep her mind off of her problems for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spins

“I mean, it’s not even that he has a _kid,_ “ Felicity hesitated, focusing as she rebalanced herself atop the barstool before continuing, “It’s the LIE!  I could do a kid! I’m _great_ with kids! Okay, maybe I’m not _greeeat_ with kids.  I was a _terrible_ babysitter- got fired my first job- but I could _learn_ to be! I could _try_ to be!  We’re a _team_ , he’s supposed to tell me everything!  He _proposed_ knowing-“

Felicity’s rant was not cut off by Curtis, who sat patiently with a mixed look on concern and amusement, but rather by the bartender who placed two bright green shots in front of the pair with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, I can’t, Curtis-“ Felicity started to push her shot over toward her employee, who immediately shook his head in protest.

“It was all me, sweetheart.” The bartender admitted, “And yes, you can.  Anyone who finds out about a fiancé’s secret kid _definitely_ deserves a little extra somethin’.”

Felicity felt the blood drain from her cheeks and down to the pounding of her heart.  Casting a worried glance around the bar, she tried to calculate how many others had heard her rant, and how badly this would affect Oliver’s campaign when a cell phone video of her complaining inevitably leaked out.  

“No worries, Sweetheart,” the bartender moved the shot glass back toward her with a wink, “everyone else is too caught up in their own problems to worry about the girl cryin’ in the corner.  They all assume _they_ have it bad.”

Felicity sighed, eying the shot before her, “Yet you brought _me_ an extra drink?”

“That means you’re the winner tonight.  You _do_ have it the worst out of all these sad sacks.  Until Mr. Queen shows up here later lamentin’ ‘bout losing you.  Then you’ll have some competition.  I can’t imagine the pain of havin’ what he had and screwin’ it up.”

“You can’t-” Felicity started to beg, looking to the “United” campaign poster hanging behind the bar before casting a worried look to Curtis, whose eyes reflected her own panic.

The bartender took the empty wine glass from Felicity’s grasp with a wink, “No worries, Love.  Bartender-patient confidentiality.”

Felicity closed her eyes and downed her shot without further hesitation.  She couldn’t bear to think about how her angry words earlier must have hurt Oliver.  She couldn’t let herself worry about how much he must hate himself right now or how he was dealing with his own pain.  This had been his own damn fault. Instead, she could only worry about how her own heart had been shred to pieces by his betrayal. How _stupid_  she had felt when he accidentally revealed that something so monumental, so stressful, had happened in his life and he didn’t trust her with the truth. And if movies had taught her anything, the only way to mend this kind of pain was with a couple of drinks followed by a gallon of ice cream.  

It took only seconds for the warmth of the shot to spread to her core and before that feeling was gone, she grabbed Curtis’s shot, forcing the heat all the way to her fingertips.

“You drivin your friend home later?” The bartender asked, turning his attention to Curtis, who was sipping his drink quietly.

“Well, _technically_ she’d my boss-“

“You are my _friend_ ,” Felicity clarified, trying to slow down her words to avoid sounding as intoxicated as she felt, “You’re just a friend I can fire- but I won’t fire, because you’re _amazing_.  I mean I _almost_ fired you once, because I was going to listen to that stupid board, but I didn’t because you’re really good at what you do.  Plus, you didn’t kill me when we base jumped, which is really great-“  Felicity cast a suspicious glance to the bartender, “I mean when we base jumped in a totally _normal_ situation-“

Curtis let out a single laugh before turning back to the bartender, “Yeah, I’ll get her home,” he promised before the large man cleared the shot glasses and left for a group patrons at the other side of the bar.

“I don’wanna go home… what if he’s there?  That’s why I was just going to work all night-“ Felicity groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.

“First of all,” Curtis interrupted her, “no man is stupid enough to be home after he screwed up this badly.  You get the loft until you let him back in.  It’s just common sense.  And second, I know you were going to work all night, that’s why I made you come for a drink.” Curtis paused, looking around him before continuing in a whisper, “but he, you know- the guy in the hood- won’t be expecting your help tonight, right?  I don’t think you’re quite in the right shape.  Can you call out sick to _that_ job?”

Felicity couldn’t help but roll her eyes as bitterness edged into her voice, “He’s on his own tonight.” She stared into her drink for a moment before her eyes softened and she matched Curtis’s quiet tone, “I can’t go home… Even if he’s not there… I can’t…”

Curtis just smiled, pushing a glass of water over to Felicity, “Then I’ll let Paul know we’re having a guest.”

## >>————>

Felicity wanted to be madder.  Sure, she  _was_ mad, despite hours of ranting and crying to Curtis; but she wasn’t mad enough.  Because, despite the heat of her anger, Felicity couldn’t help but notice how intolerably cold the bed was without Oliver next to her.

Felicity cursed the bartender for those free shots and sat up to sip her water.  It was impossible to relax when she was so cold.  Her struggle for a dreamless repose wasn’t made any easier as she battled the spins every time she tried to lower her head.  And, to top it all off, the spins reminded her even more of Oliver.  Every time she tried to drift off to sleep, she was haunted by the memory of his arms around her and the her boisterous declarations that the spins are the result of a disturbed equilibrium of fluid in the inner ears, and therefore he can’t cure them just by “holding her tighter.”  The silence in the room just made the recollection of his laugh, and his challenge of “we’ll see about that,” all the more impossible to ignore.

The memory was so loud, so real, that Felicity almost didn’t hear the groan of the window as it opened.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she declared firmly, not allowing herself to look up from the glass of water balanced in her lap.  She knew if she did she might give in, she might beg him to come warm up the bed, to hold her until everything felt better.  “And you better not have used an arrow to get up here.  Paul apparently just had the siding redone.”

“You should probably be more worried when someone breaks into your bedroom at night…” Oliver’s voice was hesitant and, despite Felicity knowing better, it sounded much too far away.

“Well _someone_ said I shouldn’t carry a gun all the time.”

“ _You_ said that Felicity.”

Felicity looked up only briefly enough to see that Oliver hadn’t come in disguise.  It was just him, in the same button up he had been wearing this morning, plus an expression that matched the misery battling the anger in her own gut.  

“Well… New revelations this morning proved that I am an _idiot_ so you probably shouldn’t have listened to me.”

Oliver sighed loudly and Felicity could hear him take a single step toward her before stopping in his tracks.  “You’re not an idiot, Felicity.   _I_ screwed up.  I didn’t know what to do and I chose wrong.  It was a stupid decision made way too quickly,” Oliver took another single step forward as he begged, “ _please_ look at me, Felicity.   _Please_.”

Felicity took her time placing her water on the bedside table and composing her face into a look she hoped passed as apathetic before looking Oliver in the eye.  “Were you at the loft?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.  “Curtis swore only a fool would stay around after our fight.”

Felicity swore she saw a flash of a smile before it was taken over by a look of guilt, “Only just now,” Oliver admitted. “I was with Diggle after spending all day at the campaign office.  By the way, he said he is on your side and that I’m an idiot.  Then I went home to check on you but you weren’t there.  Since the coffee maker was still on so I assumed you hadn’t been there since we spoke this morning…  So I called and woke up your very crabby assistant-“

“Because you called her in the middle of the night?”

“-and she told me you left the office with Curtis around 8.  I tried to go to bed but… well I couldn’t sleep without at least _seeing_ you again.”

Felicity sighed, looking back down at her hands on the comforter as she attempted to formulate what she wanted to say.  “I’m so mad at you, Oliver.  Honestly, I’m not sure how this is going to affect us as a couple.”

Olivier took a breath, clearly planning to jump in, but Felicity held up her hand to stop him.

“But right now, I just want to sleep, I _need_ to sleep-“ Felicity’s voice grew desperate as she realized just how much both her mind and her body needed just a few hours of repose before she could even _think_ about tackling the latest challenge in her relationship. “I just can’t-“

“Then I’ll go…” Oliver whispered, taking a step back toward the window without taking his eyes off Felicity, “I just needed to make sure-“

“I just need to _sleep_ Oliver,” Felicity repeated her plea, no longer trying to hide the exhaustion in her voice as she met Oliver’s eyes once again, “-but I need you here to sleep.  This isn’t done, not even close.  But right now, I really just need you to stop talking and lie down to warm up this bed.” Felicity paused, pressing her palms firmly against her forehead, “… and to make the spins stop.”

Oliver was in the bed before Felicity could change her mind, but he hesitated before wrapping his arms around her.  “You know,” he said, holding out his left arm in an invitation for her to lean against him, “if I hold you tight enough, it makes the spinning stop.”


End file.
